


Get Out on the Dance Floor (Make Me Lose Control)

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Genderfluid, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Public Almost Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson’s found a place for himself in London. After four years, maybe he’s found himself a… friend… too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Out on the Dance Floor (Make Me Lose Control)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for prompt #54 - Crossover at fullmoon_ficlet. I’ve been wanting to do a Jackson/Teddy story for a long time. Given that Jackson was born summer of 1995, and Teddy born spring of 1998, they are a few years apart in age. I’ve set this (I think) roughly around the time Teddy should have finished up at Hogwarts. Maybe. If I got the numbers right. ANYWAY. I don’t own the worlds of either Teen Wolf or Harry Potter, but I love to play with both.

Jackson loves the way the music thumps through him, sliding under his skin almost like the full moon, bringing the wolf close to the surface. He loves the fight that it takes to keep the wolf at bay, the way it shimmers and shivers, wanting to come out and howl on the dance floor, and he loves the fact that after four years, he has _control_.

London has been good for Jackson, letting him find a new place and new footing. Letting him start over with a fresh pack, fighting his way in to prove himself and learning control from an alpha who has been an alpha almost his entire life. It’s strangely civilized compared to Beacon Hills, and in the end, it is what keeps Jackson in London even after he could have returned to California.

It’s not that he doesn’t miss his friends; he does. But they visit sometimes, and each of them has noticed how relaxed he is. How at ease. How comfortable he has become in his own skin.

None of them try to convince him to return.

Not that he’d go.

He couldn’t leave this behind, this underground life that he’s made for himself. Fuck school, fuck education. He’s a partner in this club and he’s damned good at what he does. And the best part is when he leaves it all behind, sliding onto the dance floor, not caring who he finds as a partner to slide against, testing the wolf’s control.

He spots a bright shock of teal-colored hair across the room, and he makes his way through the crowd to slip in behind the boy. He grips his hip bone, slotting in close, feeling the way the boy grinds back until Jackson groans. It isn’t a random encounter; he remembers this kid. Remembers when he showed up in the club for the first time last summer. Remembers the shape of his lips and the weird scent and the way Jackson’s wolf rises when he sees him.

Jackson presses in close, mouth brushing against the kid’s vein, tongue sneaking out for a taste. He feels the rush of air, the sudden tension, then the loose swing of the kid’s hips against him.

“Miss me?” the kid asks softly, like he knows Jackson can hear him. He turns in his arms, ending up pressed up against Jackson’s front, looking down at him.

“Can’t miss someone that was never more than a mouth,” Jackson retorts, but what a fucking mouth it was. Full lips and a complete lack of a gag reflex. It’s the kind of mouth Jackson was never going to forget.

“Teddy,” the kid tells him, leaning down to lick at Jackson’s throat, a gesture so familiar and comfortable that Jackson whines into it. Teddy’s taller than he is, but narrower. Long and lean, muscles tight under Jackson’s hands. “Call me Teddy.”

“Jackson.” He smirks, because here they are, exchanging names a year after they first met. Ages were the only thing that were important the first time around; Jackson isn’t going to fuck anyone who isn’t legal. “Back room.”

He nudges and Teddy grabs him, dragging him into the shadows at the side of the club. “Don’t need the back room,” Teddy murmurs, nudging his way inside of Jackson’s shirt, opening the buttons and pulling it wide. “No one’s going to look at us. I promise.”

“How do you know?” Jackson can’t deny the way the idea of doing it in public arouses him, but he’s a co-owner. He has a reputation to uphold.

“Magic.” Teddy grins, a long slender stick in his hand as he gestures, and Jackson watches the trail of sparks, feels the heaviness of _something_ settle around them both like a cloak. People go about their business all around them, as if unaware that they are there at all.

Jackson’s hand snakes out, gripping Teddy’s wrist, inspecting the _thing_ that he holds. Teddy seems startled by how fast he is, then he grins brightly, eyes sparking bright white amongst the icy blue. “I knew you were something special,” Teddy murmurs. “That’s why I came back. And you’re going to hire me, because you want me around, all the time.”

For a moment, Jackson wonders if Teddy has some control over him, because it doesn’t sound like a bad idea. “What _are_ you?” He doesn’t bother to control the growl, letting it rise viciously under his words, letting his eyes flash at the younger man. When Teddy doesn’t back down, Jackson leans in, baring sharp teeth.

“Not afraid of werewolves,” Teddy says, tone even. “My father was one, my mother was a shapeshifter. And me?” He grabs Jackson’s hands, placing one on his chest and one at his crotch. “I can be whatever you want me to be. Any time, any where. You need me.” His grin is wicked. “You _want_ me.”

Jackson feels Teddy’s body shift, changing from male to female and back to somewhere in between the two in the end. His breath catches, not sure what to do with this, how to handle this new idea in his supernatural world. Lydia would want to know more, and would be worried.

Jackson kind of just wants to fuck him.

“I want you,” he agrees. “We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Teddy laughs, letting Jackson lift him, push him back against the wall. “There’s plenty of time,” he agrees. “And I’m not going anywhere, so come on, wolf. Show me your worst.”

That point’s debatable.

Later.

_Much_ later, when Jackson doesn’t have a fistful of teal hair. When he isn’t mouthing at soft skin, drinking in the taste of full lips. When he can think straight.

He’ll figure it out then.

Right now the wolf wants out, and for the first time in years, Jackson’s with someone who doesn’t seem to mind. He’s going to let himself lose control.


End file.
